Redhawk Caldera Serenade to the cobwebbed chandelier.

Hotah broke through the last smear of fog just in time to see Towhee at the water’s edge, her posture rigid with a kind of grief he already felt blooming in his own chest. He joined her without a word, nose dropping to the patch of earth she stood over.

Peregrine.
Fresh enough to sting.

His heart sank clean through him.

He drew one long, shaking breath, then another, trying to steady the tremor in his ribs. The cold air didn’t help. The fog didn’t help. Nothing helped.

He lifted his head toward the lake—toward the swallowing gray—and for a moment he just stood there beside her, still as stone, staring into the expanse that had likely taken his boy.

A soft, broken exhale escaped him.

He stepped closer to Towhee, shoulder brushing hers in silent solidarity, his jaw tight, eyes burning though no tears fell.

There was nothing to say. Only the awful truth settling around them like the fog.

last from hotah!